This is a song about "Wick3d records"

And ask to see his tax records, they'll make you bound to walk,

What you think i flow for? y'all niggas is old dog

Check my records, i killed every single fucking objector!

And so the muscle flow is something you can't get no muzzel for

And three hours in the showers with the corpse

I'm rapping for royal records

Something in his arm, he pushing more and more

Punchline rapper what you think i make these records for?

You couldn't ship gold records if the only copy you pressed was solid gold

I remember when i used to bust a mack with my eyes closed

Truth be told, i'm only seventeen years old, my heart is bold, i keep tryin to stay gold,

Didn't even care whether it's summer or blistering cold , platinum records were getting sold

And breaking all the records on that 4x4 relay

Come with me, to madrid thats where real play

Now i'm putting out these records so that hood shit is explained,

Of the very same baby that the virgin mary raised